


Agathokaklogical

by NimWallace



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, I'm trash tbh, M/M, One Shot, Sad Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 14:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19275505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimWallace/pseuds/NimWallace
Summary: Agathokaklogical (adj);composed of both good and evil.





	Agathokaklogical

It wasn't that the Almighty had ever explained the rules of the Universe to anyone, She hadn't. Not even to the angels.  
But, for some reason, all of Creation--Heaven, Hell, and Humanity lived by these invisible set of standards.  
Then, there was, of course, Jesus. He pretty much explained why all the Rules existed and why people should not be assholes to each other. It didn't work out very well for him.  
Crowley didn't consider himself to be much of a good. . .well, he thought he was a good _demon_ , but certainly not a good _person_.  
He had a reputation Down Below of being effective and quick with his temptations. He never told them he didn't really do most of them himself.  
He considered this to be a kind of paradox, a double evil, if you will. He was disobeying Hell, yes, but he was also Disobeying, which was a very demonic thing to do. It worked pretty well for him.  
Aziraphale did consider himself both a good Angel and a good person. He got his Heavenly deeds done and cared about the well being of other people and generally, tried to do Good Things. He didn't know if he was even capable of doing a Bad Thing, because he was, well, holy.  
How could he do a bad thing?  
Then Armeggedon came and went, and suddenly, Aziraphale was confused about if he was ever Good in the first place. He was clearly capable of disobedience, so. . .was he even really a good angel? Or was he just getting by in the role?  
Crowley, Crowley was clearly capable of Good, did that mean Aziraphale was capable of Bad? He didn't really know.  
They were both a bit lost, after the Almost End of the World. Without really a side to go back to, a team to play for. They found company only in each other. After Heaven and Hell both attempted to execute them, they were terribly alone in some ways. In others, they were not alone at all.  
Aziraphale continued his bookshop as usual, and Crowley continued coming around to the bookshop to meddle about or take him out for lunch. They didn't seperate much these days--they no longer had to worry they would be caught, so an affair of sorts started between them. No longer was their love a forbidden fruit, to be hidden and uneaten, to lie rotting beneath the tree. Instead, it stood like an oak in a hail storm, unapologetic and yet apprehensive, branches wavering in the wind but the base good and sturdy.  
Soon, Crowley didn't even bother leaving the bookshop. One day, he just brought his plants from his flat and arranged them about (Aziraphale found they looked rather nice by the window, next to the Dickens books) and ceased leaving the place.  
Aziraphale found his company endearing, and was delighted when he moved in (however slowly and sneakily he did it).  
He found that being around Crowley was altogether different than it had been before. Gone were the days he felt an ache in his chest when he looked into his eyes, or brushed up against his hand. Instead, he was free to embrace him, be with him. The physical affection between them started small and grew. Crowley had never been much for Physical Touch, but he found something about Aziraphale grounding. When they clasped hands, somehow, he was pulled back to earth.  
Soon it was a peck on the cheek, and then the lips. "Angel" and "my dear" became more common and more affectionate. They did not correct people who assumed them to be a couple. Hardly anything had even changed between them, yet somehow, everything had. They were closer than ever, without Heaven and Hell between them.  
"6,000 years is a long time," Crowley muttered into Aziraphale's jacket. They were lying on the bed, Aziraphale reading, while Crowley idly napped or watched him.  
"Hmm?" Aziraphale said.  
"A long time to wait, for this."  
He put down his book, looking at Crowley curiously. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes glimmering with what could only be concern.  
"I mean, to say, that it's been an awfully long time, you know? And we could've. . .we could've always had this."  
Aziraphale ran a hand through Crowley's hair, brushing the back of his neck with his fingertips.  
"I didn't want to Fall," Aziraphale said, quietly. "I wasn't ready."  
"Ready," Crowley muttered. "What do you mean, ready?"  
"Well, I always assumed I'd Fall, sometime," Aziraphale sighed. "It seem inevitable. I wasn't going to avoid you forever, and I've never been particularly good at being an angel in any case."  
"That isn't true," Crowley said, offended. "You have too been good. Going about, thwarting evil and whatnot. Done a right good job. If Gabriel told you different--"  
Aziraphale chuckled, but the laugh was empty and broken.  
"I'm not all holy, my dear," he said softly. "As much as I wanted to be. I was going to Fall, I might still, I'm not sure. I'm not sure if I'm even really an angel anymore."  
The look in his eyes was crushing. If he went on with it any longer, Crowley might just have to find a way to get rid of it.  
"You are," he said. "You are, always have been. You might not have always done the right thing, Aziraphale, but you've always tried to. Isn't that what being Good is, anyway? Just trying to do the right thing. Don't think I can say I'm exactly all evil myself."  
"No, I don't think so," Aziraphale smiled. "I think you would have made such a wonderful angel, Crowley. Had you stayed."  
Crowley didn't look at him. His days in Heaven were numbered and blurred, it was so very early, in the very beginning, he could hardly remember it.  
"I hung the stars," he said quietly. "It's really all I remember. I hung the stars in the sky."  
Aziraphale kissed the top of his head, smoothing his hair down.  
"I don't think it would be so bad to Fall, not anymore," he said. "Not if you are."  
Crowley couldn't breathe for a moment. He didn't know how to explain it to him; how to explain how Falling broke him in two, and how it made him unforgivable, and how he's been trying to make up for it since, as if Heaven could some how take him back. Instead, he grabbed Aziraphale's hand and laced his fingers through it.  
"I love you," he said simply. "And 6,000 years hasn't changed that."  
"Well then," Aziraphale said softly. "Here's to 6,000 more."

 

 


End file.
